Next Of Kin
by rorypondtheboywholived
Summary: James returns to MI6 after a mission and he receives some bad news. One shot.


James and Q had been together for a few years. They weren't married, nor did they have any children. They were far too busy for anything like that due to their demanding careers, which they both loved. James had just returned from a mission in Lithuania which he had been assigned to for the past three months, and he was itching to return home, take a shower, make a cup of tea, hold Q close to him as three months away from him might have well have been three years, and sleep with him. (Whether that would be in a purely innocent way or not, had yet to be determined.) Instead, James had been pulled in to M's office.

M had his hands folded together on the table and he was sat upright. He motioned for James to take a seat but James declined.

'Can we make this quick? I have business to deal with at home.' James told Mallory with a sigh.

'Now that is something I agree with.' His look softened knowing that James would definitely not like to hear what he was about to be told. 'James, I have some bad news.' James put his hands in to his pockets and stared down at M, he moved his feet, waiting for M to go on with what he had to say.  
'Q's mission was compromised.'

'Missions are compromised all the time and then we abandon them, I know. I don't see how this could be constituted as bad news.' James said irritably.

'It was compromised and he and his team were seized by an organisation looking for you.' M said, looking James in the eyes, even though he did not want to and wanted to avoid James' look at all costs.

James took his hands out of his pockets and quickly moved closer towards M's desk.

'Why am I only hearing about this now?!' James demanded to know, his face showed signs of anger and worry.

M sat back in his chair ever so slightly.  
'You were on a mission. If we had told you then, you wouldn't have performed as well as you did. We couldn't have two failed missions on our hands.'

'What happened after he-' James stopped to correct himself. '_They_ were taken?' The anger was subduing and the worry and anxiety levels were rising.

M sat forward again and sighed nervously.  
'This is the difficult bit.' He told James. James was trying not to let too much worry show. 'They were questioned, and when they did not tell them what they wanted to know, they tortured them.'

'And what did you do about it?!' James said, almost shouting and hitting his fist against M's desk. M rubbed his chin and sighed again.

'There was nothing we could do. We were too late; I'm ever so sorry James.' M tilted his head. 'We can give you as much time off as you need.'

James almost fell backwards but just managed to sit down before he fell. His head was spinning, he felt sick, he felt like he was in a dream and he had to pinch himself to reassure himself that this was in fact, real.

'No, you must have got it wrong.' James said to him. He could feel something forcing its way up his throat, there was an empty feeling in his stomach and an indescribable pain in his chest.

'When we got there, they were all dead, James. We're going to catch the people that did this, I can guarantee that. But right now, you need to go home. You're not going to be fit for active duty.'

James got up out of the chair and stumbled out of M's office, he couldn't walk in a straight line and he had trouble walking down the stairs and to his car. He just managed to put the key in to the ignition after a few failed attempts to do it. James started up the engine and sped away from MI6. Driving home might not be the wisest choice in his condition but he had to. He got to his flat that he shared- had shared- with Q and parked his car. James got out and stumbled up the steps and opened his apartment door, then closed it quickly. Like he was trying to shut out the news and the feelings.

He sat on the floor for a few minutes just breathing deeply, trying to calm him down and regain his composure. Everything had happened so quickly. James looked around his apartment; it was cleaner than when he had left it. Q must have tidied up before…

James stood up and started looking around for a cardboard box, he found one shoved in his shared wardrobe, one that Q put there after he was delivered a new overly hi-tec laptop. He placed it on the white sheets of the double bed and went back to the wardrobe. James pulled out a hoard of jumpers, cardigans, jeans and trousers and dumped them in to the box. He then found Q's laptops and put them in there too. James went around the apartment picking up everything that had belonged to Q and placing them in to the box, boxes of his favourite Earl Grey, his newspapers, his pyjamas, slippers, framed photographs of them together from their very short lived holiday to Scotland (since Q had a fear of flying, there was a narrower amount of places they could go.) and the little post it notes that Q had stuck around the apartment to remind himself, and James, that they needed to buy milk, or bread, or new bed sheets. James was slowly going around and erasing every little detail about Q and taking away the evidence that he used to live there. He didn't want any memories lingering about the apartment.

Memories that included the way that every morning, Q would already be in the kitchen, sipping his first cup of Earl Grey in his pyjamas, and typing furiously on his laptop. James would come by and kiss him good morning and then pour himself a cup of coffee. Not to mention the times that they had spent all day in bed together, hot and sweaty from all the sensational sex, or just lying there enjoying one another's company. There was also the one time that James had spilled Q's red wine on the carpet after attempting to make him a romantic dinner, the stain was still there. There was the way that Q would touch him, and hold his hand, and say his name. Nothing would ever feel as good as that.

The memories that he could see with his eyes would be the most painful ones so he had to get rid of them. Pack them all away and keep them under his bed or in storage somewhere. James took another quick sweep of the house, just to make sure he had gotten everything. He looked in his sock drawer, as he and Q would often get their socks mixed up when they were doing the laundry. He dug around and pulled out a few pairs and put those in the box too. Right at the back of the drawer, under a pile of clean socks was a small box. James sat on the edge of the bed and held the box in the palm of his hand. He gently took off the lid, it wasn't a special box. It was just something he had found lying around the house. Inside the box was something that started to makes James cry quietly, then suddenly, harder than he had done after Vesper died. All of his feelings came crashing through at once, breaking down the door that he had so eagerly shut. Inside this box was a small silver badge that simply said 'Q'.

It was the badge that James had wanted, and forgotten, to give Q for his birthday last year, and the year before that, and the year before that, and the badge that he would not get the chance to give him tomorrow.


End file.
